


Monochromatic Nightmare

by foolhearty



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fae, Ashadu is complicated even before this mess, Betrayal, Corrupted Warrior of Light, Corruption, Evil Warrior of Light (kind of?), Female Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Titania Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:21:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28456755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foolhearty/pseuds/foolhearty
Summary: The Warrior of Darkness emerges from her battle with Titania unscathed and Feo Ul, beautiful ally that they are, offers her protection from the grim fate of Kingship. Spiteful thing that she is, though, Ashadu Himaa puts other plans into motion.
Kudos: 5





	Monochromatic Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> I have absolute rainworms over Titania!WoL as a concept; there are so many amazing artists who draw their WoL in their Titania transformations. I'm not an artist, though, so I had to come here. It's just super self indulgent.

“The way into the castle is open when it is time to relieve the reigning monarch of the throne. And the brave soul who does the deed has the honor of taking their place.”

Feo Ul speaks and of course, yes, Ashadu listens; in shock, to an extent, but also expectant of this outcome. It seems fitting, in a way, because so often this is how monarchies are exchanged in the first place. Empires rise and fall at the blade of a sword. 

Flashing her eyes towards the rapier in her hands, Ashadu allows herself a snicker at the irony.

Feo Ul continues their speech: “However... Should you ascend the throne, you will become one of us, never again to live as men do.”

_What?_ There’s a moment to think the question, and only that; Feo Ul doesn’t pause for a rebuttal.

“My adorable sapling. My precious mortal. We fae folk live forever, but such is not your virtue. To strive for a dream you will never see, to show seeds that others might one day taste the fruits of your garden, that is the beauty of your kind. Burn bright and shine as only you can. These blessings, your lovely branch will accept in your stead.”

As the pixie explains, they’re already moving towards the center of the gifts; the shell crown, the white dress, the stone scepter, the crystal shoes. Four relics of the fae that Ashadu had hunted down relentlessly and acquired of her own merit. Something about this feels... wrong. 

There’s a pang in her stomach. A pounding in her chest. From somewhere in the depths of her mind, there’s an echoing call: **_Adorn me, victor. Let not some thief take your place._ **

_Thief. Thief._ Ashadu all at once feels bile at the back of her throat and a haze wash over her mind. Feo Ul has been naught but a friend and steadfast ally in her days here on the First. Feo Ul has showered Ashadu in gifts and favors, ferrying messages between worlds and more. Always, Feo Ul demands Ashadu ask for help when she needs it most and encourages her in her every effort.

But in this moment, Ashadu stands shocked at Feo Ul and despite her uncertainty at where the shock arises form, she knows one thing and one thing only; it is something she has known about herself for many long years. Haurchefant reminded her of it once, when he chose to die for her; Zenos reminds her of it every time they come face to face with one another on a field of battle; even so far back as her distant fight with Gaius van Baelsar, Ashadu has been excessively self aware of one thing about herself and her mentality and her worldview. 

There is a part of her that intrinsically revels in the act of making choices. Ashadu Himaa is naught more than a force of free will incarnate; she would drown herself upon a stage for all her enemies to see before she let anyone in the world make a decision on her behalf so freely.

And another thing she knows about herself? She is spiteful, under all the good she’s done for this world and her own. She is a mean thing, really. And she knows none amongst her friends will be shocked when they learn of what she’s doing here today.

She reaches out with lithe, clawed hands; a trait _not_ inherent to her Au Ra heritage, but a conscious choice she makes each time she clips and files her own nails. She reaches out, and between two fingers plucks Feo Ul from their flight. And without a word, the dragoness herself steps forward in the pixie’s place and is _overcome_ by a light brighter than any sky on Norvrandt.

Distantly, so distantly, she can hear Feo Ul’s shouts of warning but it’s already far too late and they both know it. It’s strange; on Eorzea, the rare and coveted item known as Fantasia can alter a being’s shape and race at will, given the proper levels of creativity. What Ashadu feels now is wholly unlike that experience; where a Fantasia asks as clay molding itself atop an already existing form, the magic encompassing Ashadu from the crown and other relics feels as though whatever form existed prior to adorning the items never even existed in the first place. A body rewritten. And more notably, even as it happens to her, Ashadu realizes it isn’t only the body that changes. 

There’s a giddiness in her chest that can only belong to the eternal heart of a pixie. Her mind remained her own, perhaps, memories intact but atop it all sat a forever-altered psyche. As the light of change around her dimmed, Ashadu’s new form revealed itself to Feo Ul.

Where once a slight, Au Ra woman had stood now floated a tall, monochromatic personification of Kingly will that could simply not be denied or ignored. 

Her hair, once cropped short, retained it’s black color and bangs but now hung long down her back like a cloak. Her eyes, once dual-toned shades of red and hidden behind blindfold, are now a stunning, bright silver lined by a black limbal ring. Her lips are stained a perfect matte black and plump. Her hands maintain their claw-like aesthetic, with nails to match her lips and hair.

The adventuring attire she’d worn for months now on many a journey was replaced by a long train of white silk, sheer in all the right places to show off the curve of Ashadu’s waist. The neck on the dress is low hung in a deep v shape. The fabric of the dress flows beautifully down her form before reaching her feet, adorned now in elegant lace coverings and white pearl that cover only the tops of her feet.

In her hands now is a scepter unique to her position as King; where the previous Titania had a silver’d staff and blooming lilies, this new Titania had a staff of dark wood, nearly as black as her hair, topped off with purple hyacinths, the only color present at all on her person.

At her back, she has wings of black and white patterning, with grey tones showing in subtle splotches like inkblots. Atop her head sits the crown; bereft now any shells, it is instead a crown of pure _light_ , like a halo of stars.

Hovering appalled before her is Feo Ul, face twisted from it’s typical casual grin into a mask of genuine horror that Titania finds amusing. When she chuckles, the air in the room shifts to accommodate and Feo Ul is caught in a breeze as Titania adjusts to the forces of nature bending to her will as King. 

“ **_Our branch,_ ** ” her voice regal, commanding, and beautiful as an icy morning. “ **_Such a petrified expression on your face. We accept this fear of yours as a gift at Our ascension to the throne. A sweeter gesture We have never before been gifted._ **”

“My... My sapling, what.. what have you done--”

“ **_Of what We have done, you are well aware._ ** ” The lightheartedness of Titania’s voice seeps low, into nearly a growl. “ **_And likewise We are aware now made aware of the powers and position nearly stolen from Us. We are at a loss for how to claim Our retribution._ **”

Feo Ul, so kind, a light amid many a sorrowful evening, a friend and ally indeed; Titania remembers these things of the past and tilts her head sweetly. 

“ **_A branch you are to Us, indeed, Feo Ul. Steadfast in your loyalty to Us._ ** ” She can see as the color continues to drain from Feo Ul’s face - and from Feo Ul’s body, as well. The stunning red and orange autumnal colors of Feo Ul’s body take on a sickly, ashen shade not too unlike the rotting of a dying tree. “ **_We would keep you by Our side for the rest of our many years together. Unresting and unrelenting in your protection of Us you will be. This is Our retribution. This is your willing sacrifice._ **”

The precise _logistics_ of a forcible yet willing sacrifice are lost to Titania, of course; if she deems it to be willing, then certainly it is, _in fact,_ willing. So it is said, so it shall be.

Feo Ul’s form mimics Titania’s own in many ways, now; lively no more, the body of this pixie has been ravaged and made anew to mirror their King. Titania takes pride in her work and smiles fondly at her branch. Feo Ul, for their part, has gathered what wits they have left and recognized the simple fact laid out before them: their sapling, the world’s Warrior of Darkness, is long gone and now, the King of the Pixies must be abided by.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written a prose work in roughly 2 and a half years so this is rough and I'm aware of that, but I had fun writing it nonetheless. I hope this silly one shot is my gateway to my dic-writing return; I have a lot of older ones I left unfinished and that makes me sad haha.


End file.
